


At Home With The Winchesters: What Happened After 'Time After Time'

by SmackTheDevil



Series: At Home With The Winchesters [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Brother/Brother Incest, Comedy, Ejaculate, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 01:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4985401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carrying on from The Daddy Chronicles which puts Sam and Dean within a domestic setting, At Home With The Winchesters is a new series of silly, soapy, filthy mini-fics!</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Home With The Winchesters: What Happened After 'Time After Time'

# NOW

Sunday. God's day. Or according to Dean Winchester 'God can keep it, and stick it up his ass' day.  
Sam was sat on the counter in the kitchen, swinging his legs, the only place he could sit and swing his legs. He was dressed for once. Boot cut jeans, buttoned plaid shirt in pale pink and bare feet.

"How's your hand?" 

Dean was nursing a glass door wound, he peered under the bloody bandage wrapped loosely around his right hand. 

"Stings like hell." 

"Hell? Really?" Sam asked flatly. 

"Figure of speech, dumb ass." Dean laughed softly, those cute crows feet creasing around his eyes. He enjoyed having 'old Sam' around the place. He had him when they were out hunting but at home, in the bunker, rarely. His hair, which was a little greasy was down and hanging over his eyes. Three days worth of stubble along his perfect jawline. 

"What are you looking at?" Sam bit into an apple, juice spurting out over his lap. 

"You. I ain't seen you like this around here for a long time."

"Like what?"

Dean winced as he stretched his fingers, wounds weeping, broken glass pushing itself from the cuts. 

"No make up. Just you know, manly."

Sam smirked, chewing on a mouth full of apple. 

"Would Dean like to get bear fucked? Does Dean want to be Sams' puppy?"

"Sammy." Deans cheeks flushed pink. He looked down and started picking at his hand, shards of glass sliding from his flesh.

"Oh my God. Dean. Are you blushing?"

"No." His head was still down. He was blushing, of course he was fucking blushing. 

"Dean?" Sam slid from the counter, metal eyelets on his jeans clicking against the edge. He stood in front of a seated Dean. Towering over him, chest puffed out and broad. His arms slightly flexed. "Would you like me to be 'Daddy'?"

"I wanna know wha....I..fee... " 

"Hmm? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?" Sam leaned over a little, hand cupping his left ear. 

"I said. I would like to know what it feels like, yes. Okay?"

Sam slid his fingers over Deans hair. 

"Wrap your hand up."

"Huh?" Dean frowned. "There's still glass in it, Sammy." 

"I said, wrap it up." Sam was serious now. 

"Wow, you're mean." Dean wrapped his still bloody hand in a long length of cotton bandage and tucked the end under his palm.

"Oh. You have no idea."

“Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna regret this?” Dean stood up, stretched his back then smirked at Sam.

“You will, Dean. You'll be sitting on a pillow for the next 3 days.”

Dean pulled a face. 

“I'm kidding.” Sam laughed then pulled his brother in close. “Or am I?” 

Dean licked his bottom lip.

“I guess I'm at your mercy then.”

“I guess I'm at your mercy then, what?”

Dean hesitated as Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Well?”

“I..I guess, I guess I'm at your mercy then..Da..” Dean paused, and pulled a face reminiscent to drinking sour milk.

“Yeah don't. It's creeping me out.”

“Straight sex?” Dean asked nodding.

“Yeah sure.”

 

Bodies spent and sweaty, Sams' back on Deans' chest, ass between his thighs. They often laid together after sex, talked for hours, ate and drank. It was the safest place they knew, it always had been.

Deans' breath was warm and laced with whiskey as he spoke over Sams' ear, one hand clutching his glass, the other playing with his brothers' hair. He loved that hair, teased him about it an awful lot but he enjoyed nothing better than burying his face in it, stroking it, tying it up and today combing through it with his fingertips.

“Your hair is greasy.”

Sam frowned.

“Thanks for the heads up.” He chuckled softly and paused. Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really enjoy me dressing up?” Sams' eyes rolled as Dean drew his nails over his scalp, his neck breaking out in goosebumps.

“Sure I do.”

“Why do you?”

“Because.” Dean held his glass over Sams' bottom lip and tipped it slowly. “You're beautiful.” 

“Dean.” Sam whispered breathlessly then sipped from the glass.

“And because I love you. And I mean that. Hell, I ain't ever loved anyone like I love you.”

“It's pretty intense, right?”

Dean was serious for a moment and thought deeply about who it was laying naked between his thighs. Who he had just cum with. And who he will spend his life with. And there was nothing that spoke him telling him any of it was wrong, or deviant or perverted.

“Yeah it is.” Dean set his glass down the nightstand and wrapped all four limbs around his brother. “God, you're fucking perfect.” He kissed over Sams' ear and then stopped. “You love me dressing up too.”

Sam, thrown by the swift change from heady romanticism to mild accusation, frowned then turned best he could to face his brother.

“Huh?”

Dean smirked.

“The forties outfit. The gun holster.” Dean was smug, raising his eyebrows at Sam as if to jog his memory. And it had because Sam had gone puce. He turned back.

“Oh God. I remember that.” Sam had to laugh. “What happened to those clothes?” 

“I think they got left behind in that skeevy house we stayed in. If I remember rightly, they got pretty wrecked.”

“You were obsessed with my side-burns around that time.”

“They were awesome.” Dean grinned as he reminisced.

“That costume, Dean. That was something else.” Sam whimpered then drifted off into a filthy little daydream.

 

# 2012

“You think Sheriff Mills will be okay driving at this time of night?”

“Yes, Dean. I'm pretty sure she can handle herself.”

Dean had been back in 2012 for around two hours. He was slightly shaken but in decent shape for a 'time-traveler'. 

“Are you still pissed with me, Sammy?”

“What? No, I'm fine. Just glad you're back.” Sam smiled weakly.

“I promise I'll try and lay off the Dick stuff, if that makes you feel any better?”

“All the Dick stuff. ALL of it?” Sam was now smirking it had been the first time he had actually looked at his brother properly since his return back to 2012.

“Well er, maybe not all.” 

“What's under the coat?” Sam bit his lip, his head cocked to one side.

“You wanna see?” Dean stood up and took the heavy gray coat off.

“Jesus!” Sam leaned back. “Wow, I mean, seriously. It really suits you.”

“Well.” Dean half nodded in agreement. “Fancy tie, quality cotton shirt, snazzy 40's hair and my favorite, gun-holster.” Dean suddenly whispered. “You know, we should see about getting these.” 

“Thigh holster.” Sam whimpered and stood up.

“Thigh holster?”

“That can wait for another day.” Sams' hand was now resting on the center of Deans' chest just slowly backing him up against the wall. He smelled of hair wax and second-hand cigarette smoke and it was divine. Sams' hands roamed everywhere. His shirt felt crisp and smooth and fresh, his pants, although loose cupped his round ass perfectly. Sam tugged at his tie.

“You okay there, Sammy?” 

Sam nodded then kicked his brothers legs apart, slid one of his lithe thighs between them and then kissed him exactly like they used to in the movies back in the 'Golden Age'. No tongue, no wet mouth, just his lips on his brothers, pressed against them, his hands gripping Deans' biceps. He pulled away.

“Well, Miss. I ain't being funny but you're kind of a tramp.”

Sam rolled his eyes, slapped Dean playfully then tugged at his waistcoat. 

“Seriously, Dean. You look sexy.”

Dean eyed his brother carefully.

“You ain't ever said that before.”

Sam toyed with the gun holster, fingers touching everything he liked the look of.

“I think it all the time, just don't ever say it is all.” Sam looked down. Coy.

“This is extra special though, isn't it? Admit it.”

“Dean, I'm not being funny but if you don't drop your pants and fuck me stupid right now, I'M sending you back to 1944.”

“You want that?” 

“Dean just shut up.” Sam unbuttoned his jeans. “And for fuck sake, fuck me!” Then pulled them down with his underwear, his ridiculously huge cock springing out like a slinky.

Dean felt his dick twitch which echoed through his body and came out in his neck. He screwed his nose up then scratched the back of his head.

“I'm kinda trussed up here, Sammy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those guys back then, their clothes were kind of complicated.”

“Just pull your dick out through the zipper.”

“Oh romantic.”

Sam shuffled over to his brother, his pants still around his ankles, dick comically bobbing. He reached down and started fiddling with the zipper, Dean slapped his hand.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Trying to get laid.”

“I've been gone for 68 years and you're demanding me like some cheap slut!” Dean laughed, then ducked under Sams' arm.

“You were gone for like 5 minutes.” Sam spun around and managed to grab Dean around the waist, his pants twisted under his feet and they hit the ground together.

Sam crawled up Dean's body.

“Permission to rip off your clothes and ruin you, Sir.”

“Do what the fuck you want an' then I'm doing the only fuck I've ever wanted.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam was now straddling his brother. He tore the suspenders from his pants, then tore at the pants themselves, pulling them down and shuffling backwards on his ass over his brothers generous thighs. 

“Nice underwear. Billowy.” Sam winked then yanked those down too. Dean winced as Sam sat back on his knees and pulled off his boots, pants and boxers. Dean could do little else but lie there and watch his baby brother being all desperate and so damn cute.

Sam stood up, pinning his hair behind his ears. Which to Dean meant on of two things 'I've got something to tell you and you won't like it' or 'I am about to fuck.' Sam looked down at his brother, half gangster, half naked.

“You look vulnerable.”

“I feel stupid. Will you climb on already!”

Sam stood over Dean, feet either side of his body then squatted slowly. 

“Full cowgirl?”

“Damn straight, I need to see your face.”

Sam lowered himself further.

“Lube?”

“Yes, let me just check my Second World War incestuous brothers rations pack. Just freakin' spit on it, Sammy!” 

Sam hawked and spat. Dean realized he hadn't seen him do that before, it was dirty. He rubbed his spit over the head of his brothers cock, hawked again then added more. He lowered himself down as Dean gripped a hip, his other hand guiding his cock carefully. Dean groaned as Sams' asshole swallowed his thick, wet cock. 

“Come here.” Dean bucked his hips as Sam lowered his upper body down toward his brother and then kissed him slowly. It was cold in the house, their bodies hadn't noticed but their lips were icy and a little dry. Dean drew his lips over Sams' jaw and then nibbled at his side-burn.

Sam laughed deeply in is throat, he knew Dean had a weird fetish for his sidies.

“Play with yourself, baby.” Dean breathed ragged, short breaths into Sams ear then felt Sams' hand grip his dick and begin to jerk off in time to Deans' now quickening thrusts.

Sam intermittently kissed his brother and barely moved his hips, too wrapped up in his own quest. Dean was more than happy, his cock grinding up inside his brothers tight asshole, the room becoming warmer and closer, the air filling with the heady scent of sweaty anal fucking.  
Dean grabbed Sams' head with both hands and jerked his head down toward his face, he licked along his jawline greedily then sucked his bottom lip into his mouth until Sam frowned through pain, he let it pop free then repeated with the top one. Sams' lips looked swollen and dirty which made Deans' cock throb so much it made his lower body shudder. He fucking loved his brother when they fucked. He completely let loose and he allowed himself to become utterly intoxicated by everything they did.  
Sam would often, while in the throes, admit he would do anything at that moment in time. Last time he said it, he begged Dean to piss in his mouth. He was so ashamed, they didn't speak for an entire day afterward.

Sam was quiet now, whining occasionally as Dean pinned his hips to his body and fucked him with hard, evil little jerks which made Sam feel nauseous. 

“Talk me through it baby.” Dean growled. He knew Sam was close. His body was tensing and his heavy swollen mouth was hanging open and dripping spit.

“My ass hurts.” He whined, sucking at his wet mouth.

“I know.” Dean was still fucking him, his head lifted and cocked to one side, still gripping his brothers' slight, brown hips. “Little longer baby, look at me.” He licked his lips.

Sam looked at his brother, his fist pumping his dick so hard Dean could hear it.

“Cum for me.” Dean mouthed, licked his lips again, bit down on his bottom lip then let it slide out from under his teeth slowly. He pushed Sam down onto his cock and held him there and them came with a quiet but intense shudder. All the while watching Sam who in turn spectacularly ejaculated over Deans face straight after.

Dean blinked, his dick still twitching inside Sams' slightly wrecked asshole. Sam shuddering grinned then licked Deans' face clean.

“Jesus Christ, Sammy! To come full circle, you're a tramp.”

 

# NOW

“I wonder who found that suit?” Sam pondered. Dean grimaced.

“My delicious sperm made you belch for hours after that.”

“No it didn't, Dean. Ew, gross. That only happened once when I sucked you off in the back of Baby and I swallowed too much air.”

“For someone with your I.Q, you say some really weird shit.”

“Well I did. Any way, I guess I do like it when you dress up.” Sam turned his entire body around, rested his chin on Deans' chest and grinned at him. 

“Didn't really have much choice there did I? But any time you want to see Daddy in something pretty, I'm happy to oblige.”

“I've always liked you in a suit but that one, that wasn't from Goodwill.”

“No it was not.” Dean smiled to himself.

“Oh my God. I know!” Sam tapped Deans' chest repeatedly with excitement. Dean laughed at the ridiculous cuteness of it.

“Go on, tell me.”

“I think you should buy a kilt.”


End file.
